Here At The End of All Things
by RohannaFalcon
Summary: Professional 'supernaturalists' who just so happen to have a little more of an affinity with the dark then they'd care to talk about discover a strange boy who seems to have a connection to the light side, which is more than useful when one of the hunters goes missing. This is a crossover. I'm only using Homestuck canon characters, though. No Winchesters or Cas here, sorry.
1. Chapter 1

"Go around," muttered the older of the two brothers, narrowing his eyes. His breath formed a rapidly cooling cloud in the air before him, and he swallowed- that meant ghosts. Fortunately, they were completely prepared for this.

Dave nodded in response and slipped into an easy crouch, sliding the pump on his shotgun back as quietly as possible. It wasn't very quiet.

The air was too cold for September, but that was naturally supernatural. Impossible frost formed curls on the remains of a broken window pane. Dave sniffed gently, wrinkling his nose- the wood of the window pane was still splintered and still released the faint scent of pine. Newly broken- definitely violence here. He slipped along the side of the building like a particularly quiet and shotgun-bearing wraith and covered the back door and window.

A sharp sound cut through the air- his brother readying his own rock-salt-loaded firearm. Dave allowed his to make a loud clicking noise as the round settled into place and he flicked the safety off, and the air temperature dropped ten degrees.

Simultaneously, they kicked the front and back doors open.

This cabin was barely a shed. There was only one large room and a loft, and their target was perched on the desk in the center of the room- a young boy with spiky brown hair, wearing only woolen pants and a shirt- no shoes, although there was a discarded ghost-y cape lying on the floor.

Dave brought the gun up and shot, mentally blocking out the horrifically loud sound. He was used to having his ears blasted into by now, and even with the earplugs that every hunter wore when they knew a firefight was inevitable, it was still painful.

Bro fired as well. The ghost snapped its head around, looking at Dave, and made a strange hissing sound before disappearing into mist.

Dave lowered his gun and darted forwards, setting the firearm on the small wooden desk before searching through its warped drawers for anything detailing where this ghost's body might be buried.

"It says he drowned, in a lake," Dave muttered with a sigh after viewing a few yellowed papers resignedly. "They got the body out, though, but it took weeks because the ice was too thick for a while."

"Son of a fuck," Bro said appreciatively. "So this guy's mad because they didn't get his body out?"

"I don't know. It's the best we've got, but the body... It doesn't say where the body went."

Bro glanced around the dark loft, narrowing his eyes behind his glasses. "I don't like this place. Is that all that's there?"

"Looks like it."

"Then let's get out of here."

Dave stood, grabbed his gun, and carefully stuffed the papers in his jacket. They exited the shack and left the door swinging open. The unnatural cold was fading, which meant the ghost- though probably not dead- was moving off. Not intending to kill them, then.

They carefully stepped into their car- a 1999 TARDIS blue Chevy Camero, boosted with a Corvette engine- and roared away. Dave huddled in his seat, checking the rearview mirror every few seconds.

"Relax," Bro said with a chuckle, glancing over at him. "It's not going to try and take us down in a car."

Dave, not reassured, looked ahead towards the road, then his eyes widened behind his glasses and he let out a yell. Bro glanced forward and slammed on the breaks. There were houses here, but what concerned the brothers was the ghost, standing in the center of the road. Tendrils of frost spread like ferns across the ground, and fingers of cold reached through the air and wrapped themselves around throats and fingers. Dave and Bro both grabbed onto the sides of the car as it fishtailed wildly. Bro struggled with the gearstick and the wheel, and Dave put his head down in case of a crash.

The car pulled a 180 and finally stopped, half-parked on someone's lawn. Dave glanced up and looked around- the ghost was gone, again. Bro was breathing heavily, hands on the wheel, and staring straight a head.

"Not going to try and take us down in a car," Dave said, staring straight ahead. "Of course not. That'd be stupid."

Bro pressed his lips together and said nothing.

Dave leaned over towards the window, glancing up at the house they were now accidentally occupying the lawn of. His gaze traveled over the mundane white paint, the defective green window shutters, the tree with its tire swing, the windows with white curtains, and oh god someone was staring at them.

There was a boy standing in the window, eyes wide. He was wearing a pair of rectangular glasses, and behind them his blue eyes were huge. Dave blinked at the kid from behind his shades- god, this kid couldn't be older than, what, twelve? He looked twelve, in those Ghostbusters pajamas.

"Go, go, go," he hissed to Bro. "There's a kid watching."

Bro's eyes widened behind his shades, and he shifted the car into gear and took off, leaving some gouges in the lawn. Dave watched the kid, who stared at them until they were out of sight, and then settled back into his seat.

"Hope he didn't see the ghost," he muttered.

Bro glanced over at him quickly again. "Who?"

"That kid."

"Oh. Nah, probably not."

After a half a mile or so of average town shops and such, they pulled into the Good-nite Motel (fucking motels, Dave muttered) and disembarked from the Camero. Dave patted it with a half-smile and followed his brother to their room, which was just a few doors away from the only available parking spot. Bro unlocked the door and locked it behind them, then tossed his leather jacket onto one bed and flopped down. Dave did much the same, staring at the ceiling.

"Check the town's records tomorrow?" Dave asked.

"You got it," Bro answered, and yawned. "Get some sleep, lil' man."

"Uh huh."


	2. Chapter 2

"Rise and shine, lil' man, we've got digging to do," Bro called, and threw a newspaper at Dave's head. The boy groaned and batted it away, knocking it onto the floor, then scrabbled for his glasses on the desk. His fingers found the shiny dark plastic and he slipped them on clumsily, then blinked a few times and sat up, groaning slightly.

"Right, right," he muttered, and failed to beat his brother to the shower. While he was waiting, he picked up the newspaper and stared at it, then spread it out on the bed and began to search through it. He spread the pages over the bed, running through them systematically for any mentions of ghosts. There was nothing- just the one angry spirit around, it seemed, although the guy actually hadn't done anything to hurt them yet. It just seemed like this particular ghost had some sort of affinity for the cold, and kept making cars go wild on streets at night, and also freezing children in the cold and burying towns in snow.

He pulled out a black leather notebook and opened it carefully, flipping through the few pages that were filled and picking up where he had left off taking notes on this particular ghost. So far, what he had was that every winter, in the months where the lake could be frozen over and people would skate or go look at it or whatever people did with a frozen lake, someone would die on the 12th. This year, it had already happened- a young child had fallen through the ice, a little girl, and drowned in the icy water below- the same death as the original ghost, by Bro's reckoning, had experienced. The next month had been clean, but the month after- their current month- a boy had gotten hypothermia out in the woods near the lake and died. That was last week, and it was January now.

The shower stopped. Dave glanced up, then looked back down, holding the end of his pen against his lips while he thought. Logically, the ghost shouldn't try to strike again until the twelfth of February, or maybe even March, if it was going every other month. But why hadn't this ghost shown up in history before? Why hadn't it killed people in years past?

He closed the book and hopped off the bed. Maybe, if they searched the town obituaries, they would be able to find some record of previous deaths in winter around the lake. Perhaps the ghost only killed one a year, or one every few years- after all, this was close to the boundary of Canada, and deaths from cold and snow each year weren't uncommon. It was like drownings in a port city.

Bro trotted out of the bathroom, wearing a towel. He kept his head down and his soggy hair covering his eyes. Dave didn't look at him. It was an unspoken rule between the two of them that they were never, ever, unless circumstances required it, to be seen without their shades.

For Dave, it was easy. Since he had an odd albinism mutation in genetic code, he could bypass any authorities who asked him to remove his glasses by simply saying, "I'm sorry, but my medical condition requires that I keep these on at all times." For Bro, it was harder. He would have to take them off and wear a pair of colored contact lenses, which happened to be in a shade of chestnut, to hide the orange pigmentation in his eyes. The color itself was impossible, but nobody actually cared or knew at this point.

Dave locked the bathroom door (not without his utility lockpicks with him, paranoia was strong with hunters) and took a quick shower- they had work to do. If he was lucky, he might be able to find enough info on this ghost to burn its body and get out.

He dressed in simple clothes, jeans and an inconspicuous brown t-shirt. His jacket, dark red with a disk logo on it, was worn and faded from years of use. He also made sure he had his necklace on- a simple thing, string with little metal macaroni-like tubes and beads on it, that didn't tie in the back but looped around and sort of pressured itself into staying on. It was actually rather complicated, but despite the fact that it took forever to get used to tying it, he could do it quickly now. Bro had gotten it for him a while back.

They exited the motel room, heading out into the bright sunlight. Dave squinted a little bit, but as soon as he sat himself down in the Camero's passenger seat, the tinted windows cut the light and it was more bearable. Bro started the engine with a half-smile and pulled out of the parking lot, heading down towards the library.

It was about ten when they got there, and the librarian eyed Dave oddly as they entered.

"Young man, shouldn't you be in school?" she asked him, noting his clothing and the fact that he looked his age, which was about sixteen.

"I'm here on break for a research project," he said casually. "This is my dad, here to provide authorization if I need to take anything home with me."

The librarian did not look convinced.

Dave gave her the best pleading look he could manage without actually changing his facial expression.

"Alright," the librarian said warily. "So, what is it you're looking for?"

"We need the newspaper records going back sixty years," Bro said, leaning on the desk. "Further, if you've got anything lasting."

The librarian stared at them for a second, but when neither of them budged or offered an explanation, she took a deep breath and shook her head to herself, then pulled out a key from beneath the main desk.

"I'll take you to the records room," she said, and led them out through a hallway to a large, windowed door. Inside was a bank of the old clunky computers and a lot of shelves of dusty newspapers and records.

It wasn't worth it, though, because after two hours of searching, there was nothing. No pattern to freezing deaths, nothing about anyone dying for years and years on the 12th of whatever. The only thing they found was an article about a boy who had drowned in the lake on December 12th, but the article itself had come from an old journal that had been found- an antique. There was no mention of the body, or where it was buried.

"I think we gotta get our hands on this journal," Bro said, leaning back in his uncomfortable chair. Dave nodded in agreement, stretching.

They had lunch at a small restaurant called, imaginatively, Flavors Eatery. The inside was dark, but had bright murals in odd places, and weird yet pretty wall decorations- there were more smirking porcelain suns than Dave could count.

They ordered some stuff which might have been Hispanic food but they couldn't tell, and as they waited, the door opened and who should walk in but a strikingly familiar face- the boy. Today, his hair was a bit neater, and he actually appeared to be much older than Dave had first assumed. He was wearing jeans, black sneakers, a white shirt with a weird green thing on it, and a gray plaid-ish jacket. He was taller than he had seemed through the window, and had a case of the buck teeth that might put a beaver to shame. He was standing with a dapper-looking gentleman in a light gray suit with- weirdly- a fedora. Who the fuck even wore fedoras nowadays?

Dave averted his glance, heart pumping. What if the kid recognized him? What if he recognized the car? Was he going to report them to the authorities? What if he asked about the ghost? Had he even seen the ghost?

Calm down, Strider, he thought to himself. The guy probably doesn't remember anything. He glanced up again and met the kid's gaze full on, as that guy was staring straight at him. He instantly ducked his head again, then mentally kicked himself. The kid would definitely know something was up now.

No big deal. Their food came, and Dave refused to look at the kid for the entire meal. He and Bro paid, then got up and left the small cafe- they had a journal to find.

Dave glanced back into the cafe. The black-haired kid with the blue eyes and the glasses was staring at him intently, brow slightly furrowed.

Shit.


	3. Chapter 3

Dave stared at the computer screen in front of him, thinking about the missing journal. He was looking up anywhere it may have gone, and he thought he had found a lead. Bro was doing an equal amount of searching, but he looked like he was just staring off into space past the screen of his larger and clunkier laptop.

"Bro," Dave said, and slid the computer around so that his brother could see the screen. Bro blinked a few times and looked over, staring at the screen for a few minutes.

The librarians at the desk gave them an odd look as they muttered quietly about this, but hey, they needed the free wi-fi. The motel didn't have any, so it was here or Paneras, and there was a chance someone here might know about a book.

The article Dave had found was a boring piece of work on auctions and prices, but one of the items had been an old notebook. It hadn't sold for much, the only exciting thing about it being that it was very, very old. It had been sold to a man by the name of Daniel Egbert, address 413 Pine street. In Maple Valley. It was hard to tell whether that was intentional or not, or if it was going to be in a caterpillar (the kind of housing developments that looked like caterpillars when you stared at them on Google Earth because of the roads and all the houses sticking off like so many legs, actually it looked like a centipede) neighborhood where the developers did stupid things like name all the streets "Peach _" or kinds of trees or types of gems or something.

"Looks like we gotta go get this book back from the old man," Bro said, leaning over Dave's shoulder. Dave nodded.

"There are no records of it being resold or lost or anything, so it should still be there. Bro, what are we gonna say to get it?"

"We don't have to say anything," Bro said darkly. "Just let the guy leave and nab it while he's out. It didn't sell for very much- unless it's some sort of whacky treasured heirloom or something, I don't think he's gonna miss it for a while.

Dave chewed on his lip for a few seconds, then nodded. "Okay, great. Let's go."

They left the library and headed out to the Camero. Bro started it up and they rumbled down to the right address, getting lost twice in the twisting maze of suburban houses that made up Maple Valley's civilian population.

Finally, they reached their destination and parked the car on the other side of the street, two houses away. Bro leaned out the window slightly and stared at the building they were going to raid.

"Looks normal," he said. "Maybe the book belonged to his great great grandaddy."

"Maybe," Dave said. "That's not important, though. What is important is that we get the book and get out, find the body, burn it, and skip town."

Bro glanced over at him. "What's got you all eager to leave?"

"Nothing," Dave said uncomfortably. "I just don't like this place."

"Something wrong?"

"No, it's just too... pedestrian for me."

Bro looked like he wanted to question him further, but the garage door opened and Bro's attention was fixed on the blue Sedan that pulled out, with the liscense plate JME 413. It backed out of the driveway, and the garage door closed. Bro swore quietly- it would have been nice to have been able to just walk in that way. Oh, well.

The Sedan pulled away and drove off down the street. As soon as it was out of sight, Bro and Dave hopped out of the car, slamming the doors behind them, and tried to walk up to the window as casually as possible.

Bro looked around idly, scanning the area with his hands in his pockets, while Dave slid the latch on the window with his pocketknife and slid it up as quietly as possible. He vaulted easily over the edge and landed as quietly as possible on the wooden floor. Bro followed suite, leaving the window open for a quick exit.

Dave pulled his handgun just in case, holding carefully. Bro noticed this, but didn't imitate the action. They searched the first floor and finally got to the living room- where an old book was lying on the mantle.

Without hesitation, Dave flicked the safety on his gun and stuck it in his waistband, then grabbed the book and began to flip through the pages. It was ancient- the pages were crackly and yellow, written in fading ink that was barely visible, but there were some words he recognized about halfway through- "drowned in the lake."

Good enough. He put the book inside his jacket and made his way over to Bro.

"Got it?" Bro whispered.

"Got it," Dave answered confidently, but as he did, he heard movement upstairs. He and Bro both froze, then he jerked his head in the direction of the window and they both skedaddled the fuck out of there. Dave jumped out the window and rolled after hitting the grass. Bro followed again, then pulled the window shut and ducked down.

Footsteps, inside and coming nearer, made Dave press himself against the wooden siding of the house. He could hear the movement conducted through the floorboards, and sat there holding his breath.

The window slid up, and he shut his eyes. If whoever was in there looked down...

Several seconds went by where neither he nor Bro breathed.

Then the window slid down gently, and the latch clicked, and they both breathed sighs of relief. Dave waited a few seconds before moving, grabbing the edge of the windowsill and hoisting himself up out of sight, then peeking in the side.

Nobody to be seen. He gave a slight huff of anger and glared at Bro.

"So who was that?" He snapped.

"Hell if I know," Bro snapped right back, then gestured for the car. "Cmon. We got the book, that's all that matters."

They headed for the Camero, cutting straight across the lawn. Suddenly, Dave stopped, staring down at the edge of the grass where it met the curb and the road. There were deep tire gouge marks in the turf.

He looked up, back at the house, and saw the kid standing in the downstairs window. His heart stopped for a second, but he continued turning his head, moving his gaze like it was no big deal that he had seen the kid.

"Bro, let's go go go go go," he snapped under his breath, but he didn't run- too suspicious. Instead, he and Bro casually started the car, once inside, and slowly rolled off down the road.

"What." Bro finally asked, when they were out of sight.

"The kid was there, the same one who saw us with the ghost."

"Big deal. Nobody will believe he saw you and a ghost." Bro shrugged. "Besides, he's not likely to report it, is he? A ghost? Really."

"But what about breaking into his house? I'm pretty sure that was him."

"Uh, huh, bullshit," Bro snorted. "Calm down, Dave. It's just some kid."

Dave shoved his hands in his pockets and said nothing. Bro glanced over at him.

"So, out with it. What's the book say?"

"The b- oh, book." Dave pulled it out of his jacket and paged through it. "Twelfth of December, 19..." he squinted, leaning closer. "Nineteen something, I can't read it."

"Doesn't matter," Bro muttered.

Dave ignored him. "It's a long time ago, though, that much I can tell. Anyways, it says here about some kid named Jack disappearing. His sister or something said he fell in the ice and drowned. The body... the body was never recovered."

"Shit," Bro muttered. "But it's a fucking pond, that place."

"Yeah, well," Dave said, and shrugged. "We should probably check it out. Maybe there's bones or something we can torch."

Bro nodded in agreement. "Sure."

Neither of them saw the bicycle trailing behind the cruising car.


	4. Chapter 4

The car growled along the streets and came to rest where they had been parked the night before. The lake was probably near this old cabin, so they might as well start there while trying to find it.

Dave got out of the passenger side door and headed immediately to the trunk. He opened it, then flipped up the spare tire compartment and revealed their carefully packed stash of weapons. Taking a duffle bag that was lying to the side of the pit, he carefully packed it with a container of salt, lighter fluid, matches, spare shotgun salt rounds, and a handgun in case they encounter anything more dangerous than the ghost. It was unlikely, but possible.

Bro packed his own duffle. Dave carried a second shotgun in his hands-couldn't be too careful! If one got dropped or destroyed, that would be a disaster with no backup- and he slung the bag over his shoulder. He waited for Bro to catch up, then they shut the trunk of the Camero and started into the woods.

They gave the cabin a wide berth- no sense in aggravating the ghost before it was necessary.

There was a small path behind the cabin, disused and clearly overgrown, but once it had been hard-packed dirt and kids still sometimes used it to go up to the pond. In any case, the pond was no secret, and it wasn't very hard to get to. Dave and Bro decided that the best course of action was probably just to use the path- they would make more noise trying to circumvent the ghost's attention crashing through the forest.

The glimmer of the pond shone out in the night. It was nearing summer, so there was no ice on the pond, but Dave wasn't fooled- the ghost, if it showed, could probably freeze the pond over if it wanted to. It was fairly powerful.

He glanced around. The pond was peaceful; no sign of any malignant spirits.

Bro readied his shotgun anyways. Dave followed suit, and then something caught his attention off to the side- a small gray stone prism, set into the ground. It was unmarked, but lying in front of it was a long stick, crooked on one end like a shepherd's staff. Dave sidled over and stared at it, then looked at the marker.

'For All Those Lost To the Winter,' it read, and he frowned. Something having to do with the ghost?

Suddenly, a chill wind whipped through the tree branches. Something that sounded almost like speech hissed in Dave's ears, and as he turned around he noted the new green leaves on plants wilting. Frost curled across damp grass, and the surface of the pond stilled and began to form a skin of ice, which quickly thickened. A form flickered into being on the lake, standing on top of the ice. It was the boy again, eyes sunken, clothes dripping- typical drowned ghost, only instead of dripping like normal they were forming frost and small icicles on his hair and eyelashes, along with his clothes. He was wearing a long cloak, and in one hand carried a replica of the stick that was lying at the base of the stone.

Clearly, the stick was the problem here. Bro shot, but the boy seemed to know he was about to, and swung himself up into the air on the stick. He flipped up, hooked a tree branch with the stick, and used his momentum to fling himself farther up into the treetops.

The pond cracked as the entire thing froze solid. Dave winced- this ghost may have been more than they had bargained for. He set the duffle down and pulled out the salt and lighter fluid. He opened the salt container and liberally coated the stick, but that was as far as he got- something flew out of nowhere and cracked him on the chest. The impact sent him flying backwards, and he lost his grip on the shotgun as well. It hit the ground and bounced away.

Something whacked him on the side of the head, and his glasses were knocked off. He gasped for breath, still reeling from the chest blow, and tried to sit up.

Where was Bro? he wondered wildly, hoping that his brother had the brains to pick up on Dave's revelation that the staff at the rock was the source of the ghost's power. The ghost appeared, leaping nimbly down from the trees, and Dave felt cold creep over his body. His hands and feet were numb, suddenly, and he could feel his cheeks and ears becoming colder. It burned, in a cold way.

"No-" he tried, and scrambled up, shaking his limbs to try and return warmth to them. The ghost waved a hand, and Dave was again thrown- this time, onto the lake.

Since the lake had frozen first with a layer of ice, then all the rest of it at once, the first layer crashed and splintered beneath Dave's falling body. The rest of the ice underneath remained, but he was worried the ghost would let it melt into ice-cold water and he would drown. That was how the ghost normally took its victims...

It approached him, and his fears were realized as the ice liquified beneath him. His body fell, and he felt his clothing instantly become heavy and soggy. He struggled upwards, trying to swim up, but as soon as he reached where the surface had been, he realized it had refrozen over.

He had no way to escape this- he was going to drown, trapped beneath the ice. He could see the spirit of the drowned boy leaning over him, staring at him through the ice. Its eyes were a pale blue, staring into Dave's eyes, shouting their triumph. Dave tried to punch the ice, but his limbs moved sluggishly, and refused to obey him properly.

Suddenly, the ghost's cloak caught fire. It whirled, looking back at that, and then the entire ghost caught fire. It screamed, vaporized, and was gone forever.

Dave continued to hold what little breath he had left, hoping that with the ghost gone the ice would vanish. This, unfortunately, did not seem to be the case- the ice was melting at a normal rate, which was not very fast, and the water beneath was still quite cold. Dave pounded on the ice furiously, wanting to yell or scream but knowing that it wouldn't help, and it would waste the last bits of air he had left.

There was a muffled bang, followed by two more, as bullets from Bro's handgun hit the ice. Cracks appeared above Dave, and then a shotgun butt smashed into the ice and it broke. Dave thrust his head above the waters and gasped in air, half of it water, coughing and choking. He grabbed for the edge of the melting ice and tried to pull himself out- Bro grabbed his arm and pulled him, freeing him from the icy waters.

"You okay?" Bro said, holding Dave's head and looking into his eyes. He gently slapped his cheeks. "Hey. Dave. Answer me."

"'m okay," Dave mumbled, feeling the numbness begin to fade from his limbs. He coughed several times, spitting up water, and Bro pulled him off the ice and onto the dirt and pebbles shore. He winced when he felt his ribs- there was some heavy bruising there from being tossed around, and on his shoulders. Then there was a small cut on his right cheek... but that seemed to be it.

"So the ghost's dead?" he asked, glancing around. The staff was now a charred remnant of a stick, and there was salt everywhere and the smell of lighter fluid permeating the air.

"Yep," Bro said, nodding. "We got him."

"Great," said Dave, and grabbed Bro's arm, struggling to sit up and stand. Bro helped him up, and he grabbed his duffle. Bro collected his dropped shotgun and carried it, along with his own, and the handgun. He helped Dave back to the Camero and put him in the passenger seat.

Bro appeared to be in okay condition. He said he hadn't been tossed around at all- the ghost had been focused on Dave, since Dave had been the one to notice the staff and try to burn it. "Where's your phone?" he said after a few minutes, closing the trunk of the Camero.

"Um," went Dave, and felt his jeans pockets. It wasn't there. "I don't have it. It might be back by the pond. Or in the pond," he added.

"Be right back," Bro said, and set off back down the path.

Dave lay in the passenger seat of the car for a few minutes. His head was still ringing, and he was pretty tired. But at least he was warming up now- Bro had turned the heat in the car on, even though it was fairly warm outside.

Something caught his eye, lying amongst the leaves. Something metal? He struggled into a sitting position, trying to discern what was making that metallic gleam-

"Got your phone, and your shades," Bro said, opening the door. Dave turned to look at him, and accepted both of these items gratefully. He slid the shades onto his face and blinked, glancing around. Bro closed his door, then buckled his seat belt and drove away from the pond.

They were done. The ghost was destroyed- now, they'd get a day or two of rest before picking up on some new case.

The drive back to the Good-Nite Motel was silent. The receptionist looked oddly at Dave as he staggered in, soaked and shaking somewhat, but didn't mention it. Bro helped him back to their room, and he took a shower and fell asleep as soon as he toppled into bed.


	5. Chapter 5

They rose fairly late the next morning, and took their sweet time getting dressed. There wasn't anything in the papers about gunfights last night, or any other supernatural occurrences surfacing around the area.

Bro whacked Dave's shoulder gently, not enough to hurt the bruising. "Hey, let's head back to Texas," he said. "Restock."

Dave perked up instantly. They hadn't been back to Texas in forever- it was their only permanent residence, and they really never spent much time in the overcrowded, stuffy apartment.

They packed up quickly, fitting everything neatly in the Camero. Then they checked out of the motel and sped away.

Bro put on an old ACDC CD, and Dave grinned. This was great! They beat a ghost with minimal injury and no one dying, they were going home, they had some nice music and nobody on their tail... basically, paradise.

They drove for most of that day, checking the newspapers whenever they stopped at gas stations and rest stops. Nothing anywhere, no supernatural attacks or surprises. Quite frankly, it was a relief.

Bro pulled off the highway and cruised around a small town until he found a motel, where he checked them in as the sun went down. The rooms were okay- not too big, not too small, not very fancy, but not dirty.

It was warm and quiet, and they slept well that night with the Camero outside and the highway roaring by in the near distance.

The next morning was chillier, with some fog outside, but not enough to mess up their driving. They set off at around seven thirty and started down the highway.

Just as Dave was settling into the seat, his phone buzzed. He frowned, reaching for it, but it only buzzed once.

That was odd. He sat up and dug around in the door pocket until he found it, then lit up the screen and tapped in the pin number to unlock it. His message icon was flashing, so he clicked on it. There was a new message from a number he didn't recognize- a hunter, maybe, who had gotten ahold of it and wanted his help?

New Message! said the icon.

The message was this:

509-486-3420  
i'm sorry to bother you but we really need your help!  
8:13AM, May 28

Dave stared at it for a few seconds, then sent back:

who is this  
CB#:7135408623  
8:13AM, May 28

He waited for a few seconds. There was no immediate response, so he held the phone up and said, "Hey, Bro. I just got a text from a number I don't know... do you recognize this?"

"Read it off," Bro said, and Dave did. When he was finished, Bro frowned for a few seconds, then shook his head. "Sorry, doesn't ring a bell."

"Huh," Dave said, and stared at his phone. It beeped again, signaling the reception of another message from the mysterious source.

oh right you didn't really meet me!  
well that doesn't really matter, my  
name is john. you killed a ghost,  
right?  
8:15AM, May 28

"Whoa there," Dave muttered, raising his eyebrows. Who the hell was this...?

yeah no i have no idea who you are  
and whats this about a ghost dude  
are you nuts ghosts dont exist  
8:15AM, May 28

no i saw you fight one! i know i'm  
right. your name is dave right?  
8:15AM, May 28

how do you know my name and  
how did you get this number  
8:16AM, May 28

i saw your phone lying on the ground  
so i texted myself with it because  
you never know when you need to  
contact someone who can fight  
ghosts!  
8:16AM, May 28

when was this when was my phone  
just lying around  
8:16AM, May 28

last night! you dropped in by the old  
pond where you fought the ghost.  
8:17AM, May 28

...you were following me  
8:17AM, May 28

no not really! i was just really curious  
because you guys like crashed in my  
front yard? and then im pretty sure i  
saw you stalking my neighboorhood  
and i thought you were robbers so i  
followed you and then you went off  
into the woods with guns and that  
was pretty scary but then you fought  
a ghost! so i decided hey if another  
ghost ever shows up or something  
then i can just text you or whatever.  
8:18AM, May 28

which is why im sending you messages  
now! because my friend Karan said he  
saw a ghost in the boy's bathroom at  
the school, and then Veronica said she  
saw one in the woods behind her  
house.  
8:19AM, May 28

...really  
ghosts? are you sure  
8:19AM, May 28

yeah totally, karan wouldn't lie about a  
thing like that. he's too scared of  
supernatural stuff to lie.  
8:20AM, May 28

who are you by the way youre the kid  
from the house and the food place  
right  
8:20AM, May 28

yeah that's me! i knew you were up  
to something funny when i saw you  
there!  
8:21AM, May 28

alright well come look at it these ghosts  
of yours  
8:21AM, May 28

Dave set the phone down with a sigh. He glanced over at Bro. "Got a report," he said in a monotone. "Apparently more ghosts showed up."

"Where?"

"Where we just were."

"So God help me I have to turn this car around," muttered Bro, and pulled off at the next exit to get on the highway in the opposite direction. Back to Washington for them, back to find more mysteriously appearing ghosts. Dave still had his doubts about this, but he was somehow willing to trust this kid.

were on our way hold tight and dont  
piss them off dude  
8:27AM, May 28


	6. Chapter 6

They got back into Maple Valley at around ten PM. Dave wanted to know whether to ring John or wait until the next day- they decided to wait. John's probably ghosts didn't seem to be doing much damage.

They checked in at a different motel than the last one, and crashed- Bro was tired from the day of driving, and Dave had been redirecting hunting calls for an hour about the east coast and sending their fellow supernaturalist Leo off to track down something that resembled a wendigo but could apparently fly.

The phone rang at one-thirty in the morning. Dave groped for it and found a call from the number he hadn't saved in his contacts but knew by sight.

"What the fuck do you want."

"Ummm..."

Dave sighed. "It's one-thirty in the morning."

"Yeah, I know. But Veronica just called me because she said her windows all froze over and she's really scared, and now she's not responding to my text messages... I think something bad happened to her! Ghosts have ice powers, right? I think it froze over her windows and now it's probably hurting her, or killing her, or doing something nasty and I don't know what to DO so I called you because obviously your a Ghostbuster or something right?butyousoundlikeyoudon'tbelievemeand-"

"Dude, shut up. Give us the house number and we'll go take care of it."

"I- I don't know the house number."

"What?"

"I can show you where it is though!"

"We are not taking you on a hunt."

"But there's no other way to get there!"

Dave exhaled sharply in annoyance.

"I'm sorry..."

"Fine. Fine, we'll take you. I know where you are, stay put and we'll be there in fifteen." He ended the call and threw the phone at Bro.

"Nnnerhfhehfehfff," went Bro.

"Get up," snapped Dave, pulling on his jeans. "Ghost attack."

Bro was up in seconds. He grabbed his hat and knife off the bedside table, and they both put their shoes on as quickly as they could and darted out to the Camero. Dave snatched his and Bro's bags on the way out the door and tossed them in the trunk as Bro started the car, then hopped through the side window and into the vehicle. They sped away as quietly as possible, which was not very, but nobody was awake so it probably didn't matter.

Dave remembered where John's house was. There were still tire marks visible in the grass of the front lawn.

Dave glanced down at his phone, then tossed it into his seat as he opened the door and hopped out. Bro kept the car running. Dave was dressed in full combat gear, which was basically just normal clothing with a gun stuffed down his pants.

He skirted around the front of the house and peeked in the side window, then rapped on it sharply. There was movement within, and he saw John come to the window. Dave jerked his head to the front of the house and sidled off again. As he rounded the flower bed corner, John stepped out the front door and locked it behind him, pocketing the key. He had on khaki shorts and a white unmarked t-shirt.

Dave sighed. He would be as obvious as anything. Thank god they were going to lock him in the car... handcuff him to it, if necessary. "Get in," he said, pulling his seat forwards so that John could slide into the back bucket seat. Dave sat down and slammed the door quietly.

They waited.

"...you gonna give us directions or what?"

"Oh!" John jumped. "Yeah, uhhhh, yeah ok... um, go straight and then turn left."

He gave them step-by-step directions through the caterpillar neighborhoods of Maple Valley. It turned out Veronica's house was farther away than either of the Striders had expected. Dave frowned through his shades.

Finally, they pulled up to a rather removed house that overlooked a steep bluff. At the base of the bluff, there was a winding creek filled with rocks, and it scaled up in another small cliff on the other side, which was taller than the current one. There was another house fairly close to the edge... right on it, really.

Veronica's house was large and fancy, and one of the downstairs windows was smashed. Dave and Bro slid out of the Camero and pulled up the trunk, swearing softly. Dave pulled out a single short blade and hooked it in its specially designed sheath to his pants. Bro shrugged on small construction which held two long katanas, strapped to his back. He touched them each to make sure they were there, and then gave Dave a shotgun and took one for himself. John poked his head out the window and stared at them, wide-eyed.

"You really are ghost hunters," he said.

"Yeah, no shit," Dave muttered. Something smashed inside the house- a faint tinkle of glass, and there was a scream. The Striders froze, then doubled their speed. Bro slammed the trunk and took off towards the house.

"Wait, where's the rest of your stuff?" John said, confused, as Dave checked his gun to make sure it was loaded.

"This is all we got, kiddo. No fancy light business. Stay in the car- and don't steal it."

John nodded, swallowing. Dave locked it and threw the keys at him through the open window and took off running. Bro had already reached the house and vaulted silently through the open window. Dave did the same, hitting the ground and rolling silently up into a standing position with his gun ready.

Nothing moved. Bro stood across the room, perfectly still. Dave mimicked him-

something smashed deeper in the house.

They took off. Bro's swords ended up in his hands somehow. Dave held his shotgun at the ready, and they glided through the hallways, searching for the source of the sounds.

It didn't take long. There was broken glass all over the living room, and the door to the kitchen was open. Dave slipped in and saw someone lying, unmoving, on the ground.

The glass crunched as Bro stooped to scoop up a cell phone, its screen dark. He pressed a button on the side and it lit up, revealing "Six new messages!" in cheerful white letters.

Dave checked around, then scooted to the girl's side. She looked kind of dead, especially because there was blood everywhere, mixed with... something else.

He stared, then turned her face, feeling at her neck. She still had a pulse- but one of her eyes was a butchered, bloody mess, and her right arm was pretty savaged as well. He sucked in his teeth. "Bro, we gotta get this girl to safety."

"Yeah, I know," said Bro, frowning. "It's just- look out!"

Dave threw himself sideways as Bro's gun flashed out and salt sprayed through the air. There was a furious hissing sound, and Dave raised his head from where he had fallen to see what appeared to be a floating girl. She had enormous amounts of hair, and was wearing a tattered shirt and skirt. Everything about her seemed to have a silvery sheen, and her eyes glowed red.

"That's creepy," Dave muttered, as he scrambled to his feet and drew his sword. He held it in his right hand, while holding the shotgun in his left, and fired at her. She whipped towards him, and he flew backwards at a gesture from her, crashing into the wall. Evidently he had missed. Bro leaped forward, but she caught him too, and threw him sideways. He hit the plaster and fell, spitting swear words. Dave struggled up again, but she tossed him easily sideways into a doorframe. He let out a pained, choked scream as he felt his ribs snap, and fell hard. Damn, this one was tough. He struggled to get his pistol out from where it was stored in his waistband, but that was also difficult because his ribs felt like there was a small hedgehog made of knives rubbing affectionately on them. He hissed through his teeth.

Bro flashed out of nowhere, and there were some whirring sounds as he tried to slash the ghost, but she winked out of existence and back in across the room. Bro slashed at her, leaping across the room, and she appeared right in front of Dave, lifted him a gesture, and tossed him into the granite countertop.

Dave screamed, not able to choke it back this time. Bro's head snapped around as the younger Strider flopped limply to the floor. His extra gun, the pistol, clattered away on the tiling, and his shotgun dropped to the ground as well. If his ribs weren't broken before, they certainly were now, and suddenly he felt force warp his body and his shoulder dislocated. He tried not to scream, he honestly did...

"Hey!" shouted Bro, and charged the ghost. She disappeared, and Bro skidded to a halt, standing in front of Dave, and picked up both shotguns, sheathing his blades in an instant and holding the guns instead. "You leave him alone!"

Dead silence for a few seconds. Dave strained his neck and looked up, squinting. The ghost seemed to have disappeared for the moment... but that wasn't something ghosts would really do...

Suddenly, Bro whirled and shot behind Dave's line of sight. Pellets of salt hit the walls and peppered them with dozens of tiny holes. The guns fired again and again-

"Bro, no," Dave suddenly tried to say, because Bro would run out of ammo before he beat this ghost if she kept teleporting like this. That was probably her plan- ghosts were clever, sometimes, and this one was powerful.

Sure enough, the gun clicked. The ghost winked out anyways, and Bro tried to reload, but she appeared next to him and shoved him backwards, then tossed him up and down, ceiling to floor, once, twice, against the wall. Bro hit the wall and fell, groaning.

Dave swallowed. They were royally fucked now.

"Shit," he managed to cough out. He tried to crawl towards his brother, towards the wounded girl on the kitchen floor, damn his shoulder, because if he was going to die he was damn well going to do it after saying goodbye to his brother. "Bro... Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry, fuck..."

"Not your fault," Bro said, chuckling painfully. He started to try and get up- not much seemed to be broken on him- and clutched the wall. Dave faced the ghost, and reached for his fallen sword, but she scooted it away and he felt a feeling like being punched. Blood began to trickle from his nose- he felt it welling up, running down his face, and he knew this was too much for them. There was no way- no way-

"Bro-" he called in a strangled voice, reaching for his brother with the working arm, his left.

"Dave," responded his brother, and Dave could see over the shades into his brother's eyes, orange, desperate, conveying some hidden message-?

There was a BANG and a spray of salt, and the ghost vanished. Someone fell heavily on the floor with an exhalation of air, and a shotgun clattered to the floor next to the newcomer.

"Owww," he groaned, and Dave could see in the darkness the white t-shirt of their tagalong.

"...John?" He said, confused. He tried to move, but pain stabbed his midsection, and he gasped and froze, trying to ignore it.

"Good shot," Bro croaked from across the room, and finally managed to stand up. His shades were back in place, and he slowly worked out the new bruises. He winced. "Well, those'll be nice," he muttered. "Dave, you okay?"

"No."

"What hurts."

"Ribs," coughed Dave. "Midsection. My fucking shoulder."

"I'll get the shoulder now," Bro said, and knelt. "Here. Can you sit up?"

"Yeah, but I'm not gonna like it."

John had managed to sit up at this point, and was rubbing his right shoulder with a sad and astonished look on his face. "That HURT!" He exclaimed, staring at the shotgun. "And it was loud! I can't hear..."

"Rrrraaauuauuugh," went Dave, as Bro helped him into a sitting position. He panted slightly, taking shallow breathes.

"Ready? Three, two, one, zero," said Bro, and did nothing. Dave frowned for a second, but then the pressure came and Bro did his best to relocate the shoulder. It popped back into place and Dave yelped as it did so.

"There," Bro said, rolling back.

John stared at them in fright.

"Did you...?" Dave realized, staring at him. "You shot the ghost?"

"What?"

"I'll give you a minute so you can hear," Dave muttered. "There's a reason we wear earplugs." He pulled his left earplug out, staring at it gratefully. "Earplugs for firefights, always."

John glanced at it and sighed, but didn't deign to say anything.

"We need to call 911 for this girl," Dave said through gritted teeth, as Bro helped him stand. "But we gotta salt the room first. If that ghost comes back that girl is toast."

"I can hear now," John announced. "Ummm... salt?"

"That's what we were shooting. It repels evil things. Get salt and draw a circle of it around her."

"Uh, okay," John said, and hurried into the kitchen. He made a frightened squeaking noise as he encountered Veronica. "Ohmygod! Veronica! Are- is she dead? Oh my god, oh my god-"

"She's not dead, but that'll change if you don't hurry up and move your ass!" snapped Bro. "I'm taking Dave to the car. Hurry up, because I'm gonna run back and call 911 from the house phone."

"R-right," John said in a shaky voice, and searched through the cabinets for salt. Bro looped Dave's good arm around his neck and half-carried the younger Strider out to the Camero, settling him gently in the passenger seat. Dave wasn't really paying attention at this point... his head hurt, a lot, and everything was a little bit fuzzy. Bro darted off again, and John hopped into the car a bit later.

"Dave?" he said, suddenly concerned. Dave was lying in the seat, leaned back, staring at the roof blankly.

"Wh?" went Dave.

John swallowed. "Does this... happen a lot?"

"Does what?"

"You, uh, getting hurt."

Dave considered this. "Yeah, I guess," he said. "Not usually like this, though... we don't usually... break bones."

"You broke a bone?!"

A forced laugh made Dave's ribs pulsate angrily. "Hah. Ah. Yeah. I think I broke a rib. Maybe two. Maybe three. Who knows, man." He could feel the blood drying on his face. "Hah. Jesus fuck."

"Oh my god, Dave, you have to get to a hospital!"

"Nah, I'll be okay." Dave shrugged against his better judgement. "Ahhhhhhgh."

"Seriously..."

"Dude, I'll be fine." Dave let his head fall back, staring at the roof through his shades. At least those weren't broken, he reflected. He let his eyes slide shut. Not only was it late, but he was really tired... This was probably a bad idea, he suddenly thought. If he passed out while he had a concussion, that could lead to some serious injury. "John," he said suddenly, and heard the other teen jump.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Do not. Let me fall asleep."

"Uhhhhh... how?" John leaned towards him. "Dave?"

Dave shrugged as visibly as possible while not really moving. "I don't know," he said. "But if I do it could be serious. Slap me or something. Keep me awake."

Suddenly, Bro dashed out in front of the car, around it, and dove in. He slammed the door and started the car, then sped off quickly enough to slam Dave's head against the lowered rest.

"Ow," went Dave.

"Sorry, lil man, but the cops are on their way and we want to scat." Bro turned a corner, then stopped. "And I'm lost. Yo, kid, how do we get out?"

"Turn left!" John swallowed. "Now right. Now left- not here! The next one!" He proceeded to lead them out of the neighborhood, but at one point they had to pull into a driveway and huddle down because the ambulances were going by. They did, however, get to John's house and drop him off.

John frowned and poked Dave, who muttered in annoyance and pulled his head away. "I'm awake, I'm cool."

"What?" Bro frowned.

"Think I got some head problems, Bro," Dave muttered. "Gotta stay awake."

"Shit," Bro muttered. "John, go. I gotta go fix Dave up."

"Is he gonna be okay?" John asked. Dave wasn't really listening- he was fighting to stay awake, and losing.

"He'll be fine," Bro muttered from far off. Shit. Shit. Shit shit shit. "Good as new tomorrow..."

Dave flailed a hand at his brother's arm. Bro glanced over at him, then put the car in gear and sped off, leaving a startled John to reenter his house and act like nothing had happened. It was two-forty-five in the morning.

There were a few minutes where Dave did in fact pass out, but Bro got him back to the motel safely. He wasn't really aware of much happening, but he regained normal thought abilities while Bro was bringing him in. He found himself lying on the bed, with no shirt on.

"Balls," he said aloud.

Bro poked his head in from the bathroom. "Jesus fuck, you're awake. Thank god."

"Yeah. Um."

"I gotcha." Bro wrapped his ribs up, which was the best they could do for ribs, and cleaned up all the little cuts and scrapes he had. Band-Aids, everywhere.

Dave crashed within two minutes of actually managing to get into the bed, because he didn't have any head wounds, and he seemed to be okay- a concussion was unlikely anyways, because his head hadn't taken that much tramua. Bro made sure he was okay, not dying in his sleep, and then turned the light out.

woo, this took me forever to write! I hope you like it. I kind of gave up at the end... but I was tired and had work to do for school! I suck at head injuries? Oh well. I don't really know where I was going with that... eh, whatever.

HOPEfully I'll update more often now, I was just lazy before this. And I'm gonna get going on my other fanfics too (I haven't updated them in months...) so I'm gonna be busier and stuff... agh...

-FALCON


	7. Chapter 7

Dave woke up and instantly knew he had never known such soreness before. Ribs, shoulder, hips, arms... he was a complete mess of bruises.

The TV was on. Dave forced himself slowly into a sitting position, painful though it was. It was at least better than it had been last night... that was torture. Dave screwed up his face thinking about it.

A glance over at the TV showed what appeared to be a news report... about a violent break-in that had taken place in peaceful Maple Valley, at the home of one Veronica Serket. Apparently some psychomaniac had broken in, when the girl's single mother was away on a business trip, with guns and knives or something, and had mutilated the girl and ripped up the house before... calling 911 for her and escaping? Police thought the caller was someone else, but they couldn't match the voice on the records anywhere. That's because Bro and Dave weren't on the records. Because they weren't known criminals.

Keyword, known.

Veronica was okay- she was in the hospital, and she had lost the eye and the arm was going to have a lot of scars, but she would live and be able to return to her normal life. Just not drive, ever. Probably. Because with the right eye gone, she would lose her depth perception.

The camera view on the TV changed from a view of Veronica Serket's house to a lady in a news studio, and then more live footage. There was a painted white house in the background with a green lawn, and a blue sedan in the driveway. They were interviewing one sleepy, pajama-clad John Egbert. The name scrolled along the bottom of the red ribbon as John told them what he knew about the case- he had been texting Veronica, and then she just _stopped_, and he couldn't _sleep_ because that wasn't _like_ her to just go_ away_ like that...

The police seemed unsatisfied by this, but they didn't seem to think that John was a murderer. Which he wasn't.

Although he did use a spare shotgun to blast the ghost girl's head in last night, Dave recalled. That much was interesting...

The TV switched back again, and the news report wrapped up with "Ongoing investigations" being the conclusion, and a promise to return to the story if it developed further.

Bro's head appeared out of nowhere. Dave almost jumped, then glanced down- Bro was holding out his shades, which had been scratched up the night before. Most of the scratches had been repaired with clear nail polish, except one deep score that wouldn't be fixed that easily on the left lense. Dave shrugged- that was lucky, at least they weren't broken. He accepted the glasses and slipped them on. "Thanks. What are you going to do about the ghost?"

Bro frowned. "The kid told us that Veronica saw it in the woods behind her house the day before it attacked her. If it's haunting the area, it probably has something that it's guarding- a skeleton, maybe." Bro circled around his bed and picked up his nondescript hunting bag. He lifted Dave's laptop off the table and tossed it onto his bed, plugging it into the wall for him. "In case I look around and can't find this bitch's bones, you're gonna tell me where she really is."

"But-"

"No. You're staying here. Got it?"

"Yeah," Dave muttered dejectedly. He heard Bro's footsteps, and then the door closed behind his brother, and he heard the Camero start up and pull away from the building. With a sigh, Dave grabbed the computer and flipped open the lid. Time to try and find that ghost girl...

Finding who ghosts used to be is really quite difficult, Dave reflected, as he trawled through older and older death records. It was an hour or so before he found a likely case- a double suicide. A girl's mother had killed herself to escape her vicious, abusive husband, who then turned to his daughter to be the outlet of his fury. Frightened of him, estranged by her peers, and bullied by teachers and students alike at schools, she had laid herself out on the train track and waited.

Dave winced. That was rough.

She had been found after the accident, which had nearly derailed the train, and what was left of her was buried in an old graveyard- now abandoned, disused, overgrown. Dave GoogleMap-ped it and, not so surprisingly, found that the old graveyard was located in the small forest behind the house of Veronica Serket.

He called Bro. "You're gonna have to do some digging," he stated flatly. "The girl- Ariana Megido, it says. Italian, abusive American father, depressive Italian mother who jumped off a building. Ariana herself took a nap on a train track after that because of bullying."

"Yikes," Bro responded.

"No kidding." Dave sighed. "The graveyard- it's disused at this point- should be located behind Veronica's house."

"Well, that was unexpected."

"I know. It should be pretty far from the creek, so check on her property way in the back. You can follow the creek back to... I think there's a fence, that's what that line is- and then follow the fence up."

"Sure thing." Bro hung up.

"Be careful," Dave said belatedly, but when he took the phone away from his ear, he realized nobody was listening.

Sigh. Bro rarely listened to his concerns- and rightly so, Bro was the best hunter Dave knew. Still, they probably weren't spectacular. They did almost get beat by that ghost last night... if she was guarding her grave, Bro might have some troubles.

His phone made a single elongated buzzing noise, sounding like a vibrating whistle on speed. He snagged it off the bedside table with some difficulty and unlocked the screen.

It was a message from John. Dave recognized the number, although he hadn't bothered to save the number in his contacts. Those were usually reserved for other hunters, whom he saved by alternate names anyways. The message read:

FROM: (509)486-3402

hey dave. it's john. if you didn't see  
the tv, veronica is ok. she's in the  
hospital though... and a lot of people  
think that it was some crazy person  
who snuck in and hurt her. If there's  
video or something they're gonna  
think it was you guys! you should be  
careful.  
11:13AM, May 29

Dave sighed. Yes, he knew this. They'd had to deal with video cameras before- they had never been actually caught, red-handed, on tape, because the only tapes that showed them also had them fighting whatever the monster was, and usually the tapes tore, or bugged out, or were confiscated by the hunters and destroyed. He tapped back a quick message.

yeah, i know. we've dealt with this  
kind of thing before.  
11:14AM, May 29

ok, just making sure... are you  
okay?  
11:14AM, May 29

yeah im fine  
11:14AM, May 29

i mean, you did break a bunch of your  
ribs yesterday right? or... something  
like that?  
11:15AM, May 29

oh that no yeah no i did and they  
still hurt and everything yeah but ive  
had worse  
11:15AM, May 29

geez.  
11:16AM, May 29

yeah so im just fine.  
11:16AM, May 29

that's good! um... do you want a  
cake?  
11:17AM, May 29

what  
11:17AM, May 29

i wanted to... thank you guys, i  
guess for saving veronica? so i asked  
my dad how he would thank  
someone who did him a favor or  
something and he said bake them a  
cake. so do you want a cake?  
11:18AM, May 29

sure i guess who doesnt want a  
cake  
11:18AM, May 29

me! dad makes so many cakes! it's  
more cakes than anyone could ever  
eat in a lifetime!  
11:19AM, May 29

hahaha that actually sounds pretty  
awesome tbh  
11:19AM, May 29

it is until you have to experience it!  
11:20AM, May 29

i dunno about that  
11:20AM, May 29

alright well sure i love cake so go  
for it man  
11:20AM, May 29

ok! but um... where do i like... put  
it? how are you going to get it?  
11:21AM, May 29

oh damn i guess you could bring  
it to the motel or whatever can  
you drive?  
11:21AM, May 29

yeah i can drive! i am 16!  
11:21AM, May 29

So the kid really was sixteen. He sure didn't look like it. There was a name for that aspect, Dave was sure of it, but he couldn't remember it at the moment.

alright alright cool here ill text you  
the address and stuff  
11:22AM, May 29

alright i'm on my way!  
11:22AM, May 29

Okay, well that was a thing that was happening. Dave wondered if this had been a sound decision, then texted Bro.

hey bro did you get the thing yet  
11:23AM, May 29

Not yet. It's guarded but I  
haven't gone in for the rekill yet.  
11:23AM, May 29

be careful  
11:25AM, May 29

Always am.  
11:25AM, May 29

Well he wouldn't be back for a while, probably. Dave sighed. He was going to have to get up, stagger over to the door, and unlock it. Unfortunately, unlike some hunters he could mention, he lacked powerful psychic powers and couldn't mentally work out the tumblers in the doorknob.

But there was no harm in trying.

A deadbolt was easy. But tumblers? Much more difficult. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the workings of the doorknob. This was also farther away than he normally worked from, too... but he could still try. Pain ate at his ribs, distracting him, but he took the feeling and channeled it towards his efforts. He mentally mapped the inside of the lock, then pushed at the tumblers, testing them. Each one went, ever so slowly, and he suddenly felt elated as he heard the lock click and turned it, pushing the mechanism back so that anyone could walk in.

Holy...

He found himself grinning broadly. He-! He did it! Really did it! He would have to tell Bro... or not, because Bro didn't approve of him practicing with his abilities.

Someone knocked at the door. Dave, surprised, glanced at his phone and realized it had taken him a full ten minutes to unlock the door. Just in time, too- John must have gotten her.

"Come on in!" he yelled, and to his relief it was in fact John who opened the door, holding a large plastic container in one hand. Dave then realized he didn't have a shirt on, and that his torso was mostly wrapped in strips of white bandage. Whoops.

John stared at him. "Hi," he said.

"Sorry for this," Dave said, trying to play it cool. He adjusted his shades in embarrassment.

"No, no, it's okay!" John set the cake on the desk of the hotel room and awkwardly scooted over, hands clasped behind his back. "Um, how are you feeling?"

"Terrible, to be honest," Dave sighed. "But it's not too bad, I'm just being a wimp."

"Hah, I bet not," John responded instantly. "That looks really bad."

Dave's right shoulder, front and back, was a mass of bruises. The skin was colored in shades of purple, with some of them already fading to green. His ribs, the bits that were visible, were also covered in dark blotches. John stared at them, and Dave would have shifted uncomfortably but it would have hurt.

"I guess," Dave said, for lack of anything else to say.

John suddenly frowned. "Why... was the door unlocked?"

"Bro must have left it unlocked," Dave improvised.

"What if someone got in?"

"Shoot them."

"Hahahaha!"

Dave stared at him.

"...wait, you were being serious?"

"There's a gun right there," Dave said, nodding his head towards the bedside table. It was hidden behind the Bible.

"Oh," went John. "That's... interesting."

"Yeah. Anyway." Dave coughed. "As soon as we get rid of this ghost, we'll probably be heading out of town..."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Sorry, the Ghostbusters can't hang around forever." Dave grinned crookedly.

"Awwww..."

"Although... I'm a little curious as to why all these ghosts are popping up all of the sudden. Three, just now? I don't get it. Maybe I'll do some research and we'll stay another day to figure out if something big is happening. It could just be a natural occurrence..."

"Uh, sure... What do you mean by, something big?" John asked, frowning.

"Oh, I don't know. Something that... would trigger a whole bunch of ghosts showing up all at the same time? Something causing them to all concentrate in this area. I don't know." Dave waved his hands vaguely and gave John the most serious look he could muster up. "This isn't exactly a clear-cut science, you know."

"Yeah, I would figure," John responded, raising his eyebrows. "So... do you guys just, do this, all the time?"

"Yeah," Dave answered. "Mostly."

"What about, you know, school?"

"I... don't go to school anymore," Dave said, feeling rather ashamed of himself at this point. "I mean, I went to high school until... earlier this year, really, although I had enough absents before that to make up for it. Bro took me hunting sometimes, and he wanted me to get a good education, but he moved around too much, so we just kind of... stopped." He took a deep breath- for some reason, that bothered him. Maybe it was the fact that he thought now, he was never going to be as smart as other kids- he wouldn't know as much, he'd be stupid. Maybe that worried him.

John fidgeted. "It's okay," he said. "I think you're awesome."

Dave huffed in amusement. That was something he almost never heard. "Cool."

John grinned.

Suddenly, Dave's phone buzzed. He reached for it, snatched it up, and stared at it for a few seconds, unlocking the screen and reading the message within. "It's from Bro."

"What's it say?" John asked, instinctively crowding close to read over Dave's shoulder. He almost went so far as to rest his chin on Dave's shoulder, but didn't because of the bruises.

FROM: Bro

Got it. It was a ringer.  
11:42AM, May 29

"What's that mean?" John asked, pulling his head back so he could see the phone. His hand was resting on Dave's shoulder to support himself, although he didn't seem to notice.

"It means he beat the ghost," Dave said.

"And beat means...?"

"Burned her bones." He smiled. "When you burn a ghost's bones- or some object they're attached to- it kills them forever."

"Wow..." John murmured, looking apprehensive. "You know, if I hadn't seen you guys fight two ghosts- and shot one! Myself!- I-I would probably call you psychopaths."

"Yeah, we get that a lot," Dave replied. "It's part of the job requirement."

"Hah," went John, and realized he was holding onto Dave's shoulder. "Err, sorry. Iiii should probably get back home before Dad wonders where I've gone."

"Sure, sure," Dave said, giving him a smile. "Go ahead. Hey, thanks for the cake."

"No problem! You saved my friend," John replied. "I'll never forget that!"

Dave grinned long after John left. And then he realized his ribs didn't hurt anymore.


	8. Chapter 8

When Bro walked in the door, Dave was washing his hands in the bathroom sink. He strode out to see Bro staring at him in astonishment.

"Dave, what are you doing?"

"What?" Dave said, and then realized that Bro didn't know he apparently wasn't injured. "Oh! No, let me-"

"What are you doing up."

"Bro, I'm fine."

"You broke your ribs!"

"And now they're better!" Dave snapped, to shut him up long enough to offer an explanation. "Listen. John came by to thank us for saving his friend- look, here, he gave us a cake- and at one point he touched my shoulder. And now the bruising is gone. And it doesn't hurt anymore."

"What?"

"My question exactly." Dave threw the hand towel onto the bed. "What the shit? How did he do it?"

"Are you sure it wasn't something else? Are you sure you didn't just take a painkiller or something?"

In response, Dave pulled up his shirt to reveal where there had been previously a mass of purple bruises. There was nothing there- no marks, no signs, nothing. Even his scratches were gone. All signs of injury had mysteriously vanished.

"The fuck?" said Bro, taking a seat on his bed. Dave shrugged and let his shirt fall back down.

"I knew there was something off about him... but I don't think he knows he can do it," Dave mused. "Maybe he's just a minor... healer?"

"Dave."

"There are minor psychics!" Dave raised his hands, defending his point. "MAYBE there are minor healers too. Who knows, maybe everyone has superpowers and they're all just really weak superpowers."

"Rrrriiiiight," Bro said skeptically. "I sincerely doubt that."

"Whatever." Dave sighed. "But I don't know what to-"

Whatever conversation they may have had was immediately put on hold, as a form flickered into being in their hotel room. Dave jumped, staring at the figure, which was standing next to the desk. It looked decidedly like... a child, a boy. The kid stared at his hands for a few seconds, then looked up. He had shoulder-length, dirty blond hair, and he was wearing what kind of looked like a worn frilly blue jacket. There was a little flower and a medal pinned to his shoulder. He stared up at them, frowning, and then said in a strong French accent, "Where am I?"

"Uh," went Dave, reaching for his gun. The kid stared at him, and made no move to kill him, so he stopped.

"Who are you?" the kid asked.

"Who are you?" Bro said out of reflex, taken aback. Dave glanced over at him, surprised.

"Um," said the kid, and went quiet. "Don't remember," he finally muttered, after a few minutes of staring at his hands and fiddling with the cuffs on his coat.

"Okay," said Dave. "Are you here to kill us?"

"What?!" The kid whipped his head up so fast his hair flipped backwards. "No!"

"Well, that's a good start," Bro mused. "So why are you here?"

"I dunno?"

"Do you remember anything happening to you?"

"Well, I got shot." The kid picked at the buttons on his coat and pulled the blue apart to show a white shirt and brown pants underneath. There were blossoms of red caught somewhere in half-spread, tendrils of delicate red stretching through the white. Dave almost winced. A dead kid? That somebody shot? Who was apparently French? He'd REALLY have to check the records on this one.

"I don't get it," Bro muttered. "Why would you just show up in here? You're clearly a ghost."

"Sorry?"

"You're dead. Sorry to break it to you."

"Bro!" Snapped Dave, glancing over. Geez, what if the kid didn't know?

"Oh, I know," the kid went. Okay, well that was alright, then. He sighed, then cocked his head to the side. "Wait... which one a you is the older one?"

Bro raised his hand.

The kid raised an eyebrow and stared at Bro. "I'm s'posed to kill you," he grumbled, then shook his head. "Naah."

"Wh?" went Dave and Bro simultaneously.

"Well there's somethin' tellin' me to kill you, but I don't wanna."

"You're just gonna... not?"

"I have a problem with authority."

"Right," Dave went, worried. He carefully stepped towards the kid. "Okay, so... wait, hold on. You're being... told? To kill him? Why not me too? Who's telling you?"

"Not allowed to say the name," the kid said. "Dunno the name. Um. I dunno why I'm not s'posed to kill you, maybe you're off-limits?"

"Wow, okay, that's bullshit, why is it always me with the target on my back?" Bro sighed and sat down on the bed, relaxing like conversing with a dead child was everyday business. Well- not that it wasn't- but- they usually didn't TALK to dead children, they just stopped them from murdering people.

"Where's the other one?" the ghost asked suddenly.

"What other one."

"There was another person what came through," he said, turning in a circle. "Dunno where she went."

"Another... through...? Wait, another person? Like, another ghost?"

"Yeah, yeah," the kid nodded, then darted past Dave and jumped onto the bed. It bounced beneath him and he grinned. "Haha! What's this?"

"Uh, a bed."

"No! You must be rich!"

"Not really," Dave said, but Bro snorted.

"Kind of," Bro said, when Dave looked over at him in confusion. "I mean, we've got a decent amount of money. You know. All of my-"

"You can stop right there," Dave said. "There is a minor present."

"Two, actually."

"I don't count as a minor."

"Yes, you do."

"Not in this case." Dave gave Bro a sharp look behind his shades. "No weird toy-talk in front of the dead ghost kid."

"That's a sentence you don't hear every day."

"What're you talkin' about?" The kid said, finally turning his attention away from the bouncy bed. He poked it. "This is the strangest bed I ever seen!"

"I've," Dave muttered absentmindedly. The kid ignored him.

"So... wait, so you got pulled here. Through the veil? With another ghost." Bro muttered, trying desperately to deduce some conclusion out of this strange situation.

"That's right. I think she's- 'ey, she's comin' now. You might wanna be ready with th' gun a yours, she was nasty."

"She- the ghost?" Dave scrambled for his gun, grabbing it and looking around. He had the pistol on his bedside table, with the mini salt rounds loaded in it, and a silencer screwed onto the end. Spotting it, he put down the shotgun and picked it up instead- if possible, they'd like to not attracted the attention of anyone else in the motel.

Something materialized in the other side of the room. It was a tall, pale woman, wearing a white gown and a spiked crown. It looked like it was made of icicles. She appeared to be floating in the air, up to the point that the world rippled around them and half of the room was replaced by a wintry forest, with a snowfield off in the distance. If Dave squinted, he could spot moonbeams glinting off of spiked towers over the field. A slow, frozen river wound sluggishly through the frosty waste.

The crowned woman was suddenly sitting in a red sleigh, and holding a long white wand. Dave was caught between surprise and confusion, as was Bro.

The kid yelped, then ran to stand by Dave. "Quick, distract her!"

"Huh?"

"Distract her! I can take 'er down. She's a right nasty queen!"

"Okay," said Dave, and shot the queen in her sleigh. The bullet pinged off her spiked crown and she swiveled her head to look at him. Her pale face was smooth as marble, beautiful features carved in anger at him.

"How dare you," she said, and stepped down from her sleigh. Bells jingled on the sides of it. Two enormous reindeer stood in front, ready to pull it, which Dave had managed to not notice before. Snow swirled around him.

"Uh."

"How dare you," she repeated. "You, a simple little human, attack me? I am a queen, and you must kneel before me."

"Sure," Dave said, and shot her. She staggered backwards, and Bro came up behind her with the knife. She whipped around and touched him with the tip of the white wand, and he froze where he was and toppled over.

"Bro!" Dave yelped, but was suddenly lost in a flurry of loud barking noises.

The kid had apparently opened the motel room door, which was still visible. Dogs poured in somehow, mostly pups. They leaped on her, snarling and barking, and in the fray Dave managed to get a clear shot at her eye and fired.

She burned to nothing. The winterscape and the dogs vanished, leaving Dave with an empty room, his confused frozen brother who was suddenly waking up, a white wand lying on the ground, and a very pleased-looking ghost kid.

"Dogs?" Dave said, as Bro unfroze slowly and started standing up, shaking his head in confusion.

"Pups," the kid agreed. "Hey, you can call me Pup! Since nobody knows my name."

"That works," Dave said dully. "Um-"

"Guess wot, there's two more," Pup said, concentrating.

"What? Here?!"

"No! Around." Pup waved his hands around, closing the door to the motel room. He went and sat back on the bed. "I can sense them."

"Uh."

"Every time we kill a ghost, more appear," Bro muttered. "Every- wait, hold on."

"Something's controlling- well, summoning- the ghosts," Dave said. Pieces clicked in his head. "Every time we kill a ghost, it summons two more. That sounds like, um..."

"Something mythological."

They both sat there for a second, and then Dave reached back onto the bed and nabbed his phone. Pup scooted out of the way. "I, hmmm... maybe John knows," Dave explained, unlocking his phone. "I mean, he seems pretty smart. Smart enough not to try and deal with ghosts on his own. Smart enough not to piss them off. Maybe he knows what we're looking for."

"A thing what summons ghosts?" Pup frowned. He was completely lost at this point, but fortunately he could try not to look at the cell phones and interest himself with the bedside lamp.

"Maybe," Bro answered dubiously. "No harm in checking." He grabbed the computer and opened it while Dave swiped in a message and sent it to John, who was now saved in his Contacts.

TO: John Egbert

yo john i got a quick q is there any sort  
of mythological critter that summons  
ghosts and when one of the ghosts dies  
it summons two more  
12:34AM, May 29

He set his phone down on the bed, very aware of Pup tugging repeatedly on the lamp chain, fascinated. "There. Maybe he knows, maybe he doesn't. I dunno. Found anything yet?"

"Nothing that really summons ghosts," Bro said, shaking his head. "Although I did come across a load of bullshit spells to summon the ghosts of your ancestors to consult about your life. Or, apparently, to give you magic powers. Wow, even make you fly. Holy shit, Dave, we're missing out on some serious business here."

"Ha, ha. isn't a reliable resource for actual magic," Dave muttered.

"No shit."

Dave's phone buzzed. He picked it up, then looked at it more interestedly when he noticed it was a reply from John.

FROM: John Egbert

hey dave... um, i don't know about any  
monster that summons ghosts, but when  
you talk about one dying and two more  
being summoned it kind of reminds me of  
a hydra? i dunno. sorry... :B  
12:36AM, May 29

"Hydra?" Bro said, frowning. He Googled the name and got a lot of hits about a Greek mythological monster and a fake Marvel supernazi group.

"I'm gonna ride on a hunch here and say it's the Greek thing," Dave suggested. Bro didn't deign to respond.

"That's right," Pup said from the bed, where he was leaning back on it. Dave wondered if ghost blood stained sheets- those bullet holes might carry all the way through to Pup's back. "That's the right name, I think."

"Great," Dave muttered. "How- what is it? Are we being faced by a, uh, seven-headed snake dragon monster?"

"I don't think so," Bro said. "It's some kind of creature that's summoning these ghosts. It started with one- I'm guessing lil' lakeboy that we fought the first night, and when he died, that spawned... the girl that beat you up-"

"Oh, awesome."

"- and the kid Mr. Egbert said his friend saw. That's the two from it- so then I whacked train girl, and that brought up Pup and the crazy bitch we just fought. Now there's two more we weren't expecting because she's dead, so we've got a total of four ghosts running around town, and we've already killed three. That makes seven." Bro glanced up, raising his eyebrows. "Seven heads."

"Son of a bitch." Dave 'huh'ed to himself. "Well, now what?"

"We find what's summoning them and nail it." Bro handed the computer to Dave who rolled his eyes and took it, then started refining his search. He was distracted, however, as his phone buzzed. Pup used the opportunity to stare at the laptop in fascination.

FROM: John Egbert

why are you asking about a hydra  
anyway?  
12:39AM, May 29

theres a hydra summoning these  
ghosts. every time we kill one the  
hydra summons another two  
12:40AM, May 29

oh! can i help?  
12:40AM, May 29

i dunno. what would a hydra look  
like if it wasnt a seven-headed  
lizard dragon monster  
12:41AM, May 29

and instead of being a lizard it just  
summoned ghosts to be its freaky-ass  
lizard heads no offense to pup  
12:42AM, May 29

oh jeez, i dunno! a... person? a magic  
sorcerer or something? and who's pup?  
12:43AM, May 29

oh hes a ghost nbd but seriously we  
have got to find this hydra before it  
manages to kill anyone else  
12:43AM, May 29

oh my god a real ghost? like a friendly  
ghost? can i meet him?!  
12:44AM, May 29

not exactly our top priority rn but if  
you really want to i guess you can  
come and do that or w/e  
12:44AM, May 29

im coming over right now! right now.  
12:44AM, May 29

ooooook  
12:44AM, May 29

Dave tossed the phone down with a sigh. "Well this is stupid. What the hell is a hydra? Is it its own species? Is it-"

"Got it," Bro said. Dave sat up, surprised, and leaned forward.

"Really?"

"Yeah." Bro turned the screen around. "If you look at some really old bullshit records, Hydra is actually the name of a demon."

"A demon."

"Right. Who would apparently turn into a giant snake monster with seven heads, and when whoever was fighting it managed to cut all the heads off, Hydra would just skedaddle." Bro frowned. "But these heads don't get seared- you torch it, it'll still spawn two more."

"Then... how do we...?"

"I have no idea."

"Maybe we should just go for the body," Dave suggested. "I mean, that should work, right? Stab something in the heart, it'll die. Unless it's a vampire."

"Right." Bro shut the laptop lid. "Okay, so it'll be a demon, possessing someone. I haven't seen many signs of demon activity here, but I'm guessing Hydra isn't your average demon."

"We'll have to trap it," Dave said, then frowned. "Hey, Pup."

"Yes?"

"Why did Hydra only want you to kill Bro?"

Pup only shrugged.

Dave sighed. "Alright. Maybe we can summon it."

"Summon Hydra?"

"There's gotta be a generic summoning spell we can use where we can substitute its name in for whatever's already in there and still have it work." Dave circled the bed and picked up several large books, one of which was a book full of summoning spells and dark magic information. It was a witchcraft book Bro had picked up somewhere a long time ago. To be honest, Dave had kind of assumed they had had it forever. He flipped through the pages, trying to find something...

"Here," Bro said, gesturing for Dave to give him the book. Dave handed it over and watched carefully as he skillfully flicked to a summoning page- there were spells for summoning so many different demons, but nothing specifically for Hydra. Bro stopped at one of the generic ones, and tapped it gently. "We should have most, if not all, of the ingredients needed. Most are in the Camaro, and then it needs some blood."

"Geez, blood, really?"

"This is the only one we have all the stuff for!"

"Okay, fine." Dave stood there, chewing on his lip for a few seconds. "But we can't do it here."

"Well, no." Bro rolled his eyes. "Obviously not. That would be stupid."

"Right, yeah. So where...?"

Bro turned in a small circle, thinking to himself, then snapped his fingers. "We can ask Egbert where there's a good abandoned area around here."

"John? Why him?"

"Because he's showing up here soon to meet the kid," Bro pointed out. Dave blinked as he remembered this fact.

"Oh, yeah," he muttered. "Right."

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. Dave crossed to it quickly and opened it- John stood in the doorway, then blinked at him in surprise.

"Dave! You're... up."

"What?"

"Like, walking." He glanced inside, took in Bro, then his gaze flicked over to Pup. The glasses already magnified his eyes, but they got even bigger when he saw the ghost kid. "Oh my god!"

"Come in," Dave said belatedly, and stepped backwards to let John in. John slipped past him and hesitantly approached Pup.

"Hallo," Pup said nonchalantly. He was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"You're a ghost?"

"Dead," Pup confirmed, showing off his bullet wounds. John winced.

"Yikes, those look nasty!"

"Well they did kill me."

"Right," John said, slightly disconcerted by this.

Dave cleared his throat and nodded towards the door. Everyone looked up and realized they had something to do, except John, who glanced around the room in confusion.

"What are we doing?" he asked.

"Hey, John," Dave stated. "Do you know where there's, oh, an old empty barn or something?"

"Yeah," John said. "Why?"

"Because..." Faltering, Dave looked to his brother for confirmation that he could reveal his plans. Bro nodded. Dave turned back. "Well, we're going to summon Hydra. And kill it."

"Kill it?!"

"Well, no. We can't kill it- it's really hard to kill a demon, unless you have an centuries-old demon-killing blade, or an angel's sword. But centuries-old demon-killing blades are really hard to come by, and angel swords are just myths, to normal hunters like us." He shrugged. "So we'll do the best we can, and exorcise it."

"So..."

"Send the bastard back to Hell where it belongs."

"Hah, cool," said John. Then he paused, glancing around at their faces, and added, "Wait... Hell isn't a real place, is it?"

"Ask the Winchesters," Dave muttered.

"Who?"

"Never mind. Let's just get to the barn- we don't have much time," Bro interrupted. "From what I read, if nobody kills the ghosts, Hydra will start killing humans and using their life-force to summon ghosts instead. So we should get going, or we're gonna have a massacre on our hands real quick."

"Oh," said John, at the same time as Dave swore loudly. They glanced at each other, Dave slightly embarrassed.

"John, car," Bro said. "We'll be out in a minute with Pup."

"We're bringing him?"

"'Course. He's a powerful ghost, and it's not like would could stop him from coming if he wanted to."

"I'm right here," Pup pointed out, and both of the Striders looked down and shuffled their feet, caught embarrassed again.

"Right, sorry," Bro said. "Do you want to come with us?"

"Why not," Pup replied lazily, and hopped off the bed. "What's a car?"

"Hoo boy." Bro left the room with the ghost-boy.

Dave nabbed his gun and headed out to the car. John was getting in the backseat, and Pup was climbing in the other side of the backseat. John looked nervous and stunned that he was now riding around in a hunter's car with a ghost kid in the backseat next to him. The Striders took their customary places, slammed the doors, and started out.

"We're gonna go kill a demon, yay," said John, trying to make conversation. He stopped trying after a few seconds. Dave glanced over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. The Camaro rolled to the edge of the parking lot and sat there, growling.

"All right," Bro said, glancing back and forth. "Lead on, Egbert."


End file.
